by Jack Castle
But Leo didn’t have to answer him. The massive explosion that shook the palace walls answered for him. Tae had reached the detonators after all.
#
As they scudded their Avengers precariously through a narrow, twisting canyon, Harry realized that the more advanced fighters were designed for space warfare and had a difficult time flying on this side of the atmosphere. The smaller spacecraft constantly overshot their targets and took miles to circle back.
“I’m getting low on fuel!” Mac voice shouted at him over the cockpit speakers. “I’m not sure how much longer I can keep this bird in the air.”
She was right. If Leo and Tae didn’t act soon, their planes would simply drop out of the sky and save the alien fighters the trouble. Harry decided to make one last pass over the generators.
“All right, I’m gonna try for one more pass,” he radioed back to her. “If the shields are still in place, we’ll drop our bombs anyway and hope for the best.”
Harry expertly looped his plane around and flew head-on between two closing fighters, causing one of them to dodge out of the way and crash into a canyon wall. “Starting attack run,” he said as he center-lined his nosecone on the palace.
The palace’s main guns opened fire, but Harry dove his plane below the flight deck and flew on beneath the onslaught of plasma fire. The guns couldn’t hit him there without damaging the palace’s own buildings.
Moving within range, he topped the great wall and wound his way through the narrow streets of Joppa-Cal. Then, flying underneath the palace while praying the hovering citadel didn’t have belly turrets, he looped his plane around the palace’s outer wall and closed in on the generators.
He saw his target dead ahead but also saw that the glittering shields were still in place, confirming his worst fears. Grabbing his throat mic, he relayed back to Mac, “No good! No good! Shields are still in place.”
But just as he was about to veer off, he took one last look at the shimmering shield, saw it wink out several times, and then vanish completely. Harry wiped his eyes on his sleeve and blinked several times to be sure before he radioed Mac. “You’re not gonna believe this. The shields are gone. I’m starting my bomb run.”
Harry knew that this was the most important bomb run of his life, and for humanity’s sake, he prayed he wouldn’t miss. “Torpedo away!” Harry held his breath as the falling missile sailed toward the anti-gravity generator. He flew over the generator, and for a moment, nothing happened behind him.
And then, as he was gaining altitude, BOOM! The explosion was massive. He banked his plane in a 180-degree turn, so he could survey the damage. There was a huge smoking hole where the generator housing had been. The floating city now dipped on the damaged side. Its ascent continued, but at a much slower rate. Harry whooped and hollered. “One down, and one to go!”
Suddenly, two fighters closed in behind him. “Uh-oh,” he said. “I may be in a little trouble over here. Better start your run.” He began evasive maneuvers and weaved in and out of the palace’s towers.
“I could use some help over here myself” Mac replied, but Captain Reed couldn’t hear her. He aimed his plane for a gap between a pair of Arabian looking towers, unsure if the Avenger would even fit through them. He banked sideways at the last moment and hoped for the best.
#
Mac heard an explosion behind her and feared the worst. Harry wasn’t answering her radio summons, which meant only one thing. After delivering his bomb, the second explosion she had heard must have been his plane. Help wasn’t coming.
The bogey on her six fired a volley that streaked down the side of her plane. The enemy plasma fire dotted the wing and just missed her bomb. The antiquated plane was just no match for the superior fighter craft. She had used every trick in the book to evade them, but she knew that in a few more seconds she’d be little more than cloud vapor. She imagined the alien pilots behind her gazing at their advanced consoles as their targeting sensors locked onto her ancient plane.
She suddenly heard a burst of heavy machine gun fire behind her, which was followed by a succession of explosions. Risking a quick look, she saw Harry’s Avenger shooting down her pursuers. The last one trailed smoke as it took a swan dive into the floating palace.
Captain Reed had come to her rescue once again.
This time, Mac found enough courage for a quippy comeback. “It’s about time,” she said.
Even over the radio waves, Mac heard the jubilance in Harry’s voice when he replied, “Hey, you gonna drop that pig or just carry it around all day?”
Harry dropped down on her wing, and they passed over the two towers Harry had banked through earlier, or rather, they flew past the remains of the towers. It was evident that Harry’s two pursuers had crashed through the buildings rather than flown between them.
Spying her own target, Mac radioed, “Lining up for final attack run.” With Harry’s plane covering her, it was going to be a milk run. A minute later she was over the target. “Bombs away,” she said into her microphone and pulled the release mechanism.
But nothing happened.
Mac watched as Harry’s Avenger moved onto her wing, but Mac didn’t need him to tell her that her torpedo hadn’t disengaged.
Just then, two more alien fighters arrived and fired upon the Avengers. A salvo of lasers hit the side of Mac’s plane, shredding the fuselage, but the plane stayed aloft. Mac smiled. These old birds are built to last.
Harry quickly engaged the fighters. He maneuvered between them, and the alien pilots became so focused on shooting him down that they crashed into one another.
Meanwhile, Mac aimed the nose of her plane downward, which fanned the flames that had sprung up on her nosecone. She hoped that an unlikely blowout would extinguish the flames on her engine’s housing, but it didn’t happen.
As if that weren’t bad enough, her plane suddenly sputtered. It was lower on fuel than she had realized. She tapped the fuel gauge, but the little white indicator arrow failed to move off empty. She knew she only had seconds to act before the flames licking her fuselage ignited the vapors in her empty gas tanks.
Quickly doubling back and lining up for a second attack run, she picked up her mic and held it to her throat. “Do me a favor, will ya?” she asked as she aimed the nose of her plane at the second generator.
“No, Mac, there’s got to be another way.”
But they both knew that she didn’t have time to land; the palace was entering the upper atmosphere, where they would no longer be able to reach it. Mac doubted they would get a second shot at this. The Avenger’s engines screamed in protest, and her plane began vibrating heavily. Fire and smoke streamed past her cockpit. There just wasn’t time.
In the cockpit of his Avenger, Harry saw Mac’s burning plane fly toward the second generator in a textbook kamikaze attack. About twenty seconds before the impact, Harry received Mac’s final words. “When you get back to Earth, kiss my daughter for me.”
#
When Lahmu regained his feet after the first explosion, he knew that one of the anti-gravity generators had been hit, for the palace slanted ten degrees to the right for several moments until the other generators compensated and slowly returned the palace to level. Lahmu had just finished navigating the tilted palace halls and was about to enter the main audience chamber when the second explosion nearly knocked him flat.
This is not possible! he thought as he picked himself off the floor. With the second generator destroyed, the palace began descending slowly toward the planet. Who knows what kind of damage will be inflicted on the palace in an uncontrolled descent!
Entering through the main doors and rapidly moving into the inner sanctum, Lahmu saw Atum in the sacrificial chamber presiding over the sacrifice of the young Adamah, despite the fact that the floor was now at a forty-five-degree angle.
“I SENSE DOUBT IN YOU” Lahmu
heard his master say to the boy. When the young man jerked his head from Atum’s hands, he saw the young Adamah’s eyes had already turned all black. And yet he continues to resist, Lahmu said to himself, most impressive.
“AIDE, REPORT!” Khaos said in an annoyed voice without looking up.
Lahmu quickly bowed, his nose nearly touching the carpet, and trembled as he did so. “Two anti-gravity generators have been disabled, my Atum,” he announced.
“WHY HAVE THE MAIN BATTERIES CEASED?”
“It’s the Mooks, my Atum—” He paused and wondered if it was a good idea to be the one to give him this information.
Khaos raised an eyebrow. “Yes, go on. What about them?’
“They’ve gone crazy. They’re killing everyone they come into contact with. They ripped my assistant apart with their bare hands.”
As if on cue, they heard a loud THUMP in the main audience chamber. Khaos signaled for the robed priests to keep the Adamah pinned to the altar and walked into the main chamber with Lahmu following. They reached the chamber just in time to see one of the Adamah’s winged craft soar by.
Seconds later, the main doors burst open and three of Atum-Khaos’s royal offspring burst into the room with Mooks crawling all over them, stabbing them, and tearing at their bodies. Even from fifty yards away, Lahmu heard cries in the outer chamber — the cries of more royal hybrids.
Hordes of Mooks, dressed like the indigenous species of the planet, had stormed the palace. The Mooks that couldn’t negotiate the crowded floors climbed the walls and ceilings. Two Awumpai, those that used to serve the Dan-Sai, led the rebellious horde.
Although concerned, Lahmu wasn’t worried. There were at least six full regiments of Tripods between them and the Mooks, and Mukarian bowmen loyal to Khaos lined the walls. In addition, the third anti-gravity generator was already returning the palace to level, albeit slowly. Lahmu also knew that it wouldn’t be long before Atum’s fleet arrived in orbit and sent down reinforcements. Still, the aide would have felt better if his master had brought the scepter of power with him from the inner sanctum.
Instead, Atum grabbed a heavy sword from a nearby Tripod warrior and, with a smile on his face, led a charge toward the advancing Mooks.
The final battle had begun.
#
Meanwhile, in the sacrificial chamber, Leo struggled against his captors but to no avail. Although the robed hybrids’ limbs seemed frail, the four of them were strong enough to keep him pinned to the granite altar.
In the midst of his struggles, Leo glanced upward and saw a young girl — a child, really — who looked like a wood nymph from fantasy stories. She walked toward the altar on dainty bare feet. If the priests saw her, they didn’t show it.
“Hello, Leo,” the nymph said in perfect English. When she saw Leo look at the priests and then at her, she said, “No, they cannot see me.”
“Are you the SongBird Goddess?” Leo asked.
He was rewarded with an adorable giggle. “No, silly. I’m Asha.” She grew serious. “Leo, you must free the SongBird Goddess. The scepter of power will show you the way.”
Leo saw Khaos’s scepter near the throne and figured that it had to be what the wispy little girl was talking about.
“I’m a little tied up at the moment,” Leo said. “I don’t suppose you could help with that?”
Asha swiped her transparent hand through the nearest priest to demonstrate her present condition. “I am sorry, but in my current state, I cannot.”
“Great, well, thanks for nothing,” Leo said tiredly.
One of the priests turned his head to see whom Leo spoke to. Although the priest didn’t see Asha, he seemed slightly uncomfortable, as though he sensed Asha’s presence.
Asha thought for a moment. Then, looking down at him, she bit down hard enough to make a resounding chomping noise with her teeth. “Have you tried using your teeth?”
Leo raised his eyebrows in response but decided it was worth a shot. He relaxed to make the priests believe that he had given up, waited a moment, and lunged forward, latching his teeth onto one of the priest’s forearms.
“Ahhh!” The priest cried out in pain and released him.
Before the bitten priest could grab him again, Leo shoved him backward and sent him to the floor. When another priest tried to pin his chest, Leo reared up a booted leg and kicked him to the ground.
Before the other priests could recover from the surprise attack, Leo jerked his right leg and arm free and rolled clear of the altar.
Asha jumped up and down on her toes and clapped her hands. “Grab the torch! Grab the torch!” she shouted.
The four priests had nearly backed Leo into the wall but paused when Leo removed a nearby flaming torch from its holder.
When the first priest finally attacked, Leo lit the priest’s robes ablaze. He swung the torch at the other three, and they fled from the chamber, presumably to seek help.
“Wonderful!” Asha yelled with glee. “Now grab the scepter! Grab the scepter!”
“What?” Leo asked, but then he saw the glowing scepter on Khaos’s throne. He tossed the torch away and ran to the throne.
When he touched the scepter, he felt as though he’d grabbed an electric fence. He yelped as a powerful surge of current passed through his limbs and sent him to the floor.
Leo looked at his burned hands and then at Asha with a betrayed, hurt look on his face. “What the hell?”
Asha shook her head sympathetically. “You have to believe you can carry the scepter. Try again.”
“You might have told me that the first time,” Leo said. He was growing weary of playing hero.
Jumping to his feet, he shook out his hands and took a deep breath. But before he could step toward the scepter once more, a large three-legged form appeared between him and the magical staff.
“Going somewhere?” said the Tripod once known as Stein.
“Get out of the way, Stein!” Leo shouted, but Stein continued to block his path.
“I don’t think so, boy.” Stein twirled his heavy trident over his head before pointing it at Leo.
“Over here! Over here!” Asha shouted. Leo saw that she stood next to a statue that held a squat, but formidable-looking, short sword.
Leo ran over to it, grabbed the sword, and faced the Tripod warrior once more.
Stein threw his head back and let out a hearty laugh — just before he charged.
Chapter 30
Final Battle
Standing on the balcony that overlooked the main audience chamber, Lahmu had the best seat in the house to watch the battle below.
He saw Atum Khaos carve through the rebellious Mooks as a farmer cleaves wheat from a field. Khaos, the Tripods, and the Mukarian bowmen had turned the tide of the battle and had all but finished off the last fifty of the Mooks. However, casualties had been extensive. Centuries of breeding royal hybrids and Tripods had gone to waste.
The Mooks had been unaccountably vicious. He’d had no idea the docile, little servants could be so savage. As he watched, he saw another Tripod guard swarmed by several Mooks. He made a note to suggest breeding the Mooks for an army when all this ridiculous foolishness was all over, and he was confident it would be over soon.
The rebellion would only be a minor, although inconvenient, blip in the millennia of Atum Khaos’s great and peaceful reign. Atum-Khaos, after all, was the only being who had ever defied the one true Father and survived. Once the rebels were brutally tortured and systematically executed, Atum’s warships would demolish the insolent kingdoms of this wretched world, and the cratered remains would serve as warnings to others who dared oppose Atum. The warships would then traverse the wormhole, and the Adamah’s home world would be enslaved, just like the thousands of other planets in Khaos’s empire.
The Mukarian bowmen, who were entranced and controlled by Atum
-Khaos, not only picked off the Mooks one by one but also filled the Awumpai with their arrows. Even from a distance, Lahmu saw that the mighty beasts were tiring. He smiled when he saw the Tripods closing ranks around the tiring Awumpai and the remaining Mooks.
Suddenly, Lahmu’s smile disappeared, and his jaw fell open in surprise. An Adamah airplane strafed the glass dome in the chamber’s ceiling. The dome shattered, and shards of glass and rubble the size of Awumpai fell from the heavily damaged ceiling, causing Atum and the other combatants to scatter.
Once the dust settled, Lahmu heard the whine of the craft’s engines and saw the plane line up as though the pilot intended to land right inside the main audience chamber.
Khaos saw this, too, and signaled for a Tripod to throw him its trident.
Lahmu knew that Atum was more than capable of spearing the Adamah pilot from this distance but that Atum would probably wait for a perfect shot.
The Adamah plane dropped over the chamber’s farthest wall and was mere feet from touching the ground when Khaos reared back his mighty arm and prepared to launch the trident. Lahmu knew in his heart that Atum would not miss; he was incapable of it. But then a sword suddenly appeared in the center of Atum’s chest.
The red-haired Awumpai, Hu-Nan, was still alive. Although bleeding severely from several arrows, he had managed to sneak up behind Khaos and ram a sword through his back. Hu-Nan put his head over Khaos’s right shoulder and growled ferociously to let the dark deity know who had stabbed him.
Khaos spun the giant Awumpai off his back. He stumbled around, the sword still sticking through his body, and turned to face Hu-Nan. In a fit of rage, Khaos hurled the trident, which had been intended for the Adamah pilot, at the Awumpai.
Hu-Nan yelped in pain when the trident slammed into his body. He skidded across the floor and landed in a heap. He struggled to get up but fell heavily back to the ground and moved no more.
